


Think of Your Angels

by silverserpent



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverserpent/pseuds/silverserpent
Summary: Fill for a prompt:During the part where Bucky goes off ahead to war, leaving Steve behind.The boys in his troop describe their sweethearts back home, it's Bucky's turn.Bucky chooses to talk about Steve.http://capkink.livejournal.com/1973.html?page=21#comments





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! Let me know. :) Happy Reading!

The men were settling on the cold ground of the cylindrical cells after another coordinated walk around. The circles felt like cattle in their pens, but it was important to keep mobile. Quiet groans emanated from the men of the captured 107th and other POWs as they sat with their backs on the bars for what was surely the hundredth time since they were captured. 

The men were restless with the endless days of being locked in the round cells where they were observed at all times, by these German Hydra bastards. It was hard to keep moral up, especially when certain vindictive guards decided to piss on them, through the observation deck above every shift.

The random walk-throughs by the doctor and his personal guards to take away a new victim from their division was also demoralizing. The selected soldier never came back. To watch your troop get picked off one after another was painful. There was nothing to do when guns were pointed and they dragged each specially picked victim. 

The men were quiet. Giving up. Starving slowly. Being fed every three days was not something that encourages joviality. That’s what they needed though.

“Thomas.” The thin freckled ginger kid that sat across from him looked up from where he had settled with his head on his knees, knees pulled hard into his chest. He was a private. Too young. Not that he was much older, but still.

“Yeah Sargent Barnes?” He asked quietly.

“Who you fighting for?” The kid looked confused and frowned a bit. “Really, Thomas. You got a girls back home or what?”

A couple of the other men chuckled a bit and perked up. The poor kid looked at the ground and mumbled a bit, before one of the others in the cell said, “Sargent Barnes asked you a question.” And slapped him on the shoulder.

“My mom.” He yelped out. The laughter grew after that one, to almost everyone in the cell. A few of the prisoners in the neighboring cells shifted to listen in a bit closer. The ginger kid was blushing with the laughter and Bucky felt himself smile. 

“Now, now boys. Family is good to be fighting for.” Bucky supported, though his voice was hard to school away from amused. “What about you?” He said and nudged the man next to him with his boot.

“My girl is not my mama that’s for sure.” He boasted happily. Voice carrying in the open air of the strange cells. “Most beautiful gal in Boston.” 

“Well we know that you’re not talking about your mom, O’Reilly” Someone called from another cell. “She couldn’t be mistaken for pretty considering your ugly mug!” There was a fit of laughter scattering among all the jail cells.

“Fuck off!” O’Reilly yelled back. “My ma is the prettier than yours!” 

A large man in a bowler hat that appeared to be an unofficial leader of that cell said, “How would you know?”

“Cuz I went dancing with her the night before I shipped off and we did more than dancing!” The whole troop was laughing, which was exactly what Bucky had hoped for. A little levity to help spirits.

Another man in his cell spoke up once the laughter and insults had finished being hurled at each other, “My girl’s name is Sally. Sweet girl with the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Tall and lean, with dark hair. I saw her outside a grocery store and thought I’d seen an angel. Musta been fate, because I was watching her walk away… didn’t even know how to say hello and her bag ripped. Perfect excuse to walk up and chat with her.”

Another comment from the peanut gallery, “You make your move? She give it up?”

He smiled and shook his head. “You know I don’t even remember what I said to her. But somehow she thought it would be okay to step out to dinner with me. That was a year before I was drafted. She writes me. Got hitched right before I was shipped.”

Bucky leaned his head back on the bars and went quiet just listening to the voices of the men around him with his eyes closed. This was what they needed. Something to get out of the cells even momentarily. Most of the boys seemed to be going through and remembering who they fought for and Bucky just enjoyed the soothing tones that told him they were relaxing with the occasional laughter mixed in. 

“What about you, Sarge?” A soft voice said and Bucky opened his eyes again. There were eyes on him at Private Thomas’s question. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him, and he clarified, “Who are you fighting for?”

He smirked, “Who do you think? Like most of these guys, the prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on.” Laughter sputtered around.

“What’s she look like?” 

Bucky sighed and leaned his head back looking up through the grates sitting on the cold damp floor and thought of his beloved back in Brooklyn, “Blonde.” He heard someone mutter ‘Of course’ before continuing, “Light blonde. Hair soft like a kitten. Blue eyes so clear, like a spring day looking out over the Atlantic.” 

“You waxin’ poetical to us soldiers?” Someone joked.

“Person like this deserves a little poetry.” Buck fired back. “Small petite little thing, thin wrists.” Bucky thinks back to the last time he had seen Steve and grinned, “Perfect height for kissin’”. O’Reilly shoulder him.

“Kissing huh? You have anything else you want to tell us?”

“No, I’m a true gent. No kiss ‘n tell” He smirked. “Or anything else and tellin’ neither.” Everyone laughed again.

“Sounds like you got quite the looker Barnes.”

He nodded absently and kept speaking, “Despite the prettiest features, the whole package is there and I mean everything. Smart and caring. Stubborn as a mule, with a quick temper, but sugar sweet.” Bucky was thinking of the fights he had to pull Steve from and the kindness to everyone around him. And his ridiculous inability to not stand up for the weak. Bucky choked out a laugh, “Wanted to come and knock Hitler out personally.”

There was more laughter at that. Probably every single one of them picturing a petite blonde woman in a skirt walking up and swatting Hitler across the face. “What’s the name of your sweetheart?” The man in the bowling hat called. 

Bucky was quiet for a second. Can’t say Steve’s name, he’d be lynched no matter how much loyalty some of the men claimed to have for him. He could change it to the last girl he danced with that had kinda looked like Steve… it didn’t feel right though. “Like I’d tell you? Don’t want none of you calling out my angel’s name when you’re comforting yourselves at night.” He grinned as a bunch of the men were heckling each other. “Or looking up the best one in New York when we get back.” 

There was laughter that settled to quiet murmurs of conversation between the men, spirits momentarily lifted. Bucky closed his eyes and thought of home. Of Steve. Ninety pound, full-of-fight Steve.

He was beautiful, and hated it when Bucky called him that. He could only get away with it between the sheets, when Steve’s breath was stolen by Bucky’s tongue and touch, not by dust or illness. Cheeks red and lips swollen from kisses.

This war. This war had taken Steve from him. And that punk finally had gotten himself signed up. That had been one of the biggest fights they’d had and it was the day before he shipped. Bucky regretted it, he knew Steve. He knew that he would never be able to stop him for standing up to the bullies. It was inspiring really.

He probably washed out of basic by now. He loved him. He loved everything about him, but there was no way they were going to let a sickly, 90 pound man like him head to war. Steve musta been embarrassed or something; he hadn’t heard from him since the beginning of his tour. Or the letters were getting lost. 

He focused on the smiles around him the small conversations until he heard it. The turn of a metal latch and the entire troop went quiet. The doctor decided to pay them a visit, looking for the next one. Everyone got to their feet, ready to fight if they could. 

He could see the doctor surveying cages with the armed guards around him. Looking for the next one to be picked off.

Steve’s face swam into his brain. He swore he could feel thin arms wrap around him, and a soft “I don’t like bullies” drift through his ears. 

“Hey you!” He called out. “Take me you Nazi bastard.”

The man with the glass turned and walked towards his cell looking at him up and down. “Pick me. I’ll take whatever you think you can throw.” Bucky goaded again. 

“We’ll see.” He responded with a calculated grin. And the soldiers swung guns up and opened the gate to grab him out. 

Bucky was pulled roughly out of the cell and one guard held him as the other locked the cell again. The men were looking concerned and shaken. Bucky smirked at the nearest ones and said, “Think of your angels boys. We’ll be home soon enough.” 

Bucky was shoved roughly to start walking out of the cell block. Not one more of his men would die, without going through him first. And he was going to make it home. 

Going to make it back to Steve.


End file.
